Archive for the ‘Staying Well’ Category

Alarm Bells

Monday, May 3rd, 2010

After a talk that I did in January, one of the attending psychiatrists asked me whether I was worried about relapse. I answered, without hesitation, that “no, I wouldn’t be going back there again, because my body won’t take anymore” –

There have been a few too many close calls in the past few years.

My recovery may have been a series of fits and starts; but, ultimately, I’m a bit of an all or nothing person; and, despite my behaviour, I certainly don’t want to die –

I am shocked by the ease with which the net can constrict again.

The Aftermath

Friday, February 12th, 2010

Now that the worst is over, it feels, sometimes, like I’m left to pick up the pieces of a life or clearing up after a party that has gone horribly wrong.

In the moments of quiet, when I’m trudging up the stairs to my lonely flat or clutching my stomach in the middle of the night whilst it spasms, backwards and forwards, then I wish that I could reclaim a little of what I have lost –

Resisting Relapse

Saturday, December 26th, 2009

Sometimes, when I’ve had a bad day or I’m tired of fighting, then the temptation to go back is hard to resist and I can feel myself digging my heels in, childlike, and throwing a bit of a mental tantrum, because it’s not fair that I can’t have the thing that will make me feel better and it’s so much easier for everyone else –

And, when this happens, I have to take myself in hand, like you would with a petulant teenager, and explain that life isn’t always fair, and that the things that we want are not always the things that are good for us.

No Going Back.

Monday, December 14th, 2009

Flashing lights and ambulance sirens and the mutterings of paramedics and this is the break point. This is the moment when I’m scared that I might have gone too far.

Hospital beds at three in the morning with a wired up heart and an alarm that keeps beeping and this is the life change. This is the instant when I can see what I’m about to lose.

And, in that precariously balanced moment, when I’m not sure which side of the fine line I’ll end up on, and I’m terrified that it will be the wrong one; this is the promise that I make to myself –

No going back.

Self talking – instead of self harming

Monday, December 7th, 2009

I had a sudden urge to cut my wrists on the way to work this morning.

It caught me, unawares, when I thought that things were on the straight and even, and I was better now thank you very much.

No trigger.

No warning.

Just a sudden, violent, surge of desperation that over-powered me –



Monday, October 26th, 2009

Today, I was discharged from mental health services.

It is a little scary. They have been looking after me for rather a long time.

This is the first time we’ve done it properly. No fizzling out or abrupt terminations or running from the radar. We have, instead, reached a nice ending and said goodbye as people.

I will be looking after myself from this point on -

Which is a little scary (after being looked after for so long) and feels a little vulnerable (although it’s cause for celebration) and has been a tad unsettling (even though I’ve been on track for a while now) –

- and strangely quiet because I am on my own again –

Self Management

Wednesday, September 2nd, 2009

I am currently in the self management phase: I am managing myself, by my self.

It’s a good place to be, although it sounds quite serious.

It means that I am keeping a vigilant eye out for potential pitfalls and I am avoiding any routes that will end up leading backwards. That I am being a little cautious with myself and am on the alert while I make sure that I’ve regained my balance –

I don’t know whether an eating disorder ever disappears totally – but I’m making damn sure that it doesn’t come back.